


Say His Name

by springsnow



Category: Professional Wrestling, Westside Xtreme Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Barebacking, Dom/sub, Hair-pulling, Hate Sex, Hate Sex By Proxy, Locker Room, M/M, Mild Painplay, Rough Sex, Sexual Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-10-12 19:49:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20569916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/springsnow/pseuds/springsnow
Summary: There's only one name that matters right now.





	Say His Name

**Author's Note:**

> I'm...posting this a lot later than I would have liked to. Ideally, this would've gone up before Takeover, but that's just the way things are sometimes. Anyway, it's here now. It's based on that segment from NXT UK with WALTER screaming at that trainee to say his name was Tyler Bate. This is all consensual, just to clear that up. Enjoy.

Walter doesn’t know his name. Frankly, he doesn’t care about his name. He doesn’t need to know. There’s only one name, apart from his own, that matters to Walter right now, and he’s going to make this useless little idiot of a trainee say it.

“Say it,” he growls in the trainee’s ear. The boy tries to twist around to look at him, obviously confused.

“What—?” he begins to say, but he’s cut off by Walter grabbing his arm and twisting it up his back. He wails in pain.

“Say your name is Tyler Bate,” Walter breathes. He’s fully sheathed inside the trainee now, hips flush against his taut ass, and he can easily imagine it’s Bate he’s fucking instead. Bate has a tight little ass too. Walter can just imagine the way he moans when it’s being pounded.

“I don’t understand,” the kid pants, and Walter snarls.

“Are you stupid or just deaf? Say your fucking name is Tyler Bate.”

The kid hesitates, but finally, he seems to get it. “My—” he begins, cut off by a moan as Walter brushes his prostate. “M-my name is Tyler Bate.”

Walter growls deep in his throat and begins fucking the kid, hard and fast, pounding into him with such ferocity that the boy can barely stay upright. He keeps his hold on the kid’s arm and buries his face in his shoulder, imagining not a skinny dark-haired little trainee but rather thick muscular thighs and hairy pecs and golden curls and a neatly-kept beard. He imagines Tyler spreading his legs further, whining, taking everything Walter’s giving him and still begging for more, begging in that stupid accent of his. He imagines his smell, overpriced cologne and hair gel and moustache wax, his taut, rippling muscles moving under his hands.

He lets out a long, faltering moan, his hips stuttering against the trainee’s ass as he comes deep inside him. He pulls out, staggering backwards a little, momentarily off-kilter. The trainee hesitates, then turns to look at him. Walter makes a vague gesture at the door and the kid gets the hint. He hurriedly pulls his underwear and jeans back up and scurries off, leaving Walter alone.

Walter leans back against the wall and slowly slides to the ground, tucking himself back into his shorts and panting. In his fantasy, Tyler’s turned to face him, his naked body glistening with a light sheen of sweat under the harsh fluorescent lights of the locker room. He’s stroking himself, lips parted in a silent moan, head tilted back slightly. He comes hard, striping his flat, lean stomach and thick chest. He slowly wipes it off and licks his fingers clean, his eyes burning into Walter’s as he does so.

Walter closes his eyes, and the fantasy Tyler dissipates. In the back of his mind, he can hear a deep yet somehow boyish laugh, coquettish, mocking. He grits his teeth.

He’s going to make that little bastard pay.


End file.
